Dragon's Keep
by Taters77
Summary: "Both Harry's and the other man's eyes doubled in size as they both recognized the other's face at once. . . Of bloody course." After the war, Harry is very much missing something, and of course it is Draco Malfoy that believes he knows what it is; and its not just fixing unbecoming gestures. Contains D/s aspects. SLASH
1. Chapter 1

First story in a very long time so please be aware. I would appreciate any type of advice and criticism.

WARNINGS: This is a BDSM story! Though not too graphic, as it explores more the healing and love put into a true D/s relationship rather than the sexual side of it. Be aware though.

Thank you, Taters

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Harry grumbled sleepily into his pillow as he awoke, stiff and unrested. Another day it was then. _'Of course; it's a new day every day, why would today be any different?'_ he crossly thought to himself. Harry was not a morning person, but not only that. Harry was angry, he was confused, and most importantly; Harry Potter was very lost. How could it be that the still praised and beloved 'boy who lived' and 'chosen one', the defeater of Voldemort; felt this way? Why did everyone in Wizarding London and beyond know his name, believed they knew Harry Potter, when Harry barely believed he knew himself? That was partly the problem, on one account at least; no body, despite what they themselves thought, knew the real Harry Potter. How could they? He didn't even know who he was. Despite everyone supposedly 'knowing' him, he had also never felt so alone.

Oh sure people tried, namely his still close friends Ron and Hermione; who, after the war nearly five years ago, finally tied the knot and moved out to the "more peaceful" country. Harry secretly thought it was utter bollocks; they just wanted their own lives, away from Harry's slightly loose and lack of one. Yes, his friends were happy; newly wedded and ready, he assumed, to start their lives together and build a family. And despite how he sometimes acted around them; Harry was happy for them: truly. Yet. . .

Harry roughly rubbed his hands through his mop of dark locks and down the side of his slightly rough cheeks, somewhat defeated of sorts, as he continued to rest in bed. Surely it had to be well past noon? Yet Harry made no move to get up; really what was the point? He looked up at the ceiling of his one room apartment; pathetic as it was. It was unkempt and dirty to put things politely; and Harry knew it. Though in reality the place was downright dreadful. Harry thought it was sickly suiting to his normal mood of less than cheerful.

Harry closed his tired eyes once more and half attempted to give himself a reason to get up for the day, or at least what was left of it. He muttered a tempus charm under his breath; nearly half past twelve. Bloody fantastic. He again searched for a good enough reason not to continue the rest of the day in bed, surely he was needed somewhere. He could floo Ron and Hermione or maybe today could be the day? Deciding, Harry lazily flung the dark gray, slightly ratty, and in dire need of a cleaning charm, sheets off his slim form; exposing his nearly naked body to the chill in the room.

"Bloody hell." He grumbled, as he cursed having the body of a sodding child and feeling a fool only sleeping in a pair old worn black briefs. It was cold this time of year, mid November, and who was he even trying to impress? His bed was as just as empty as it had been in a long time, just his own skinny white arse as his only company. That depressing thought occupying the better part of his brain, Harry reluctantly pulled himself out of the evaporating warmth of his bed. Surely today could be the day? And using that more positive thought, the twenty two year old savior got ready for the rest of the day.

Once clean and dressed to go out, Harry stared at his own reflection in his full length mirror, hanging crooked on the back of his loo door. The boy thought back to all that had changed since the end of the war. The year following the end of the final battle, Harry had been hopeful, happy even. The pain and fear of the war were over and Harry was finally free to be a normal person; to be himself. He was to marry Ginny, as it was always believed by his closes friends and the Weasley clan, even Harry himself at one point. Then they were to have children, Harry would find a normal job, and all would be fine. He once believed everything would fall into place; that all would be well and he could be happy living a normal, peaceful life, but it never did.

Shortly after everything was supposed to work out for him, after the war, Harry did try to be himself, yet by doing so, he found out more about himself then ever intended or wanted to. Such stuff discovered that prevented him from the life the hero had all planned out; Harry liked cock, a lot. The wizarding savior liked blokes, plain and simple. Once discovering his true sexual preference, such he suppose he never had time previously to stumble upon, everything he has once had planned obviously went to shite. Sure after he broke it off with Ginny, much to the Weasley's dismay and disappointment, Harry believed things would eventually work themselves out. That he would find a nice bloke instead of Ginny and follow through with his intended plan. Though after years that still had yet to happen. Sure the sex was better, even if only brief and mostly drunken one night stands; as per the norm for Harry. Yet still, something was unquestionably missing. Such lack of something he so desperately felt he needed, led Harry to his present feeling of defeat and anger.

He was bloody Harry fucking Potter, when was it his turn to be happy like everyone else around him? What would make him happy though? That was the ultimate question the boy constantly found swimming around in his mind. Harry had no earthly idea unfortunately. Even once entering his present depression if you will, Harry even more felt himself change from his former self. Slowly through the course of the years following the defeat of Voldemort, Harry's loose worn jeans turned to tighter darker pants and his too large jumpers morphed into lean fitting tops. Never did he wear something too over the top however, he tried to still blend in the best he could, but no longer did Harry feel, or really want to feel, like the former boy savior everyone so highly praised. He didn't deserve the hero worship. Yet even after all that, though he had grown attached to his newer edgier wardrobe, did Harry find what he really needed to find peace.

Feeling slightly dejected, Harry finished getting himself together. He, with practiced movement, quickly slipped a small silver hoop into the cartilage of one ear and then attempted, though failed, to perfectly spike up his unruly hair which was now kept slightly shorter than before. It would do, he suppose. Finally Harry moved back to his unmade bed and sat down on the edge to slip on his favorite worn black boots. Completing his outfit of tight dark wash jeans and a fitting plum V-neck. He would never admit it, but wearing his boots made him feel like a bad ass. And though Harry was lost for who he truly was and admittedly sad on most occasions, he even would confess he could look damn good if he tried.

Leaving with that more positive, but slightly narcissistic thought, Harry exited his dingy apartment with a slight smirk. Yes, today would be the day, he would make sure of it. As Harry made his way down the street, he once again thought back to the past. See once Harry had discovered his attraction to males, he had tried to find, for lack a better word, his place in the strangely active gay community in the wizarding world. A harder feat then he ever had imagined and something still left to discovery it would seem. However, though you would not believe so, Diagon Alley had its fair share of wizarding night clubs, and even a pretty steady collection of strictly gay retreats; much to Harry's initial delight when he found his lonely apartment a couple years ago. Through the years though, Harry had traveled frequently to all of them, not to find what he was looking for at all. He had been to all of them, except for one.

Harry kept his eyes trained to the well-worn rough toes of his favorite boots, a bit hesitant to even read the sign above him as he stood in front of the only club he had dared not to visit on the usually bustling night section of Diagon Alley; and for good reason. This was truly his last resort, it was true then that Harry Potter had, finally, hit rock bottom. Which lead Harry to finally lift his gaze to read the plain black wooden sign hanging above him and swaying slightly in the cool November air; Harry hugged his light worn leather jacket closer to him as he read to himself: "Dragon's Keep". Harry nervously swallowed. Despite never have actually entered the discreet club; nothing but a dark brick wall with a plain black door and the looming sign above it, Harry was not daft, he was aware of what went on behind the small windowless door. Today would be the day then, right? Despite it only being half past one, and the rest of the night life busy street being practically abandoned at this time of day, Harry still look in a deep calming breath before pushing solidly at the black nondescript door.

Yet it didn't budge. Harry deflated, of course the club wouldn't be open so early in the day, and here he believed himself clever; wanting to wonder and explore the place without the pressure and confusion of it packed with attractive bodies, doing Merlin knows what to each other. He suppose he would just have to muster the courage another time, and maybe try again; eventually. About ready to turn to head home however, he was stopped by a figureless voice coming through the door, "Do we have an appointment . . . sir?" The voice seemed to be almost mocking, especially with the belated sir attached to the end of its query.

Harry found himself full of new courage and even puffed up a bit, wanting to prove himself, he quickly lied not knowing what else to do to enter the club, "Um well actually yes, I do," he took another deep breath to maintain his, hopefully seemingly, calm composer. "I do have an appointment today."

Silence. Harry waited for the deep voice to answer him. But his only response was the eerie movement of the black door opening slowly in front of him. Harry took this as an invitation, he had no choice left but to boldly step foot into, for the first time, the "Dragon's Keep". He secretly prayed he was making the right decision. This was it then. Cautiously Harry entered the club. Once inside he was slightly disappointed, he hadn't know what he was initially expecting to find in such a place, but it was definitely not what he was faced with. It seemed just like a huge empty space, void of any of the . . . toys and contraptions he had believed to be housed there. What was the big deal? From all he could see it was just like any other night club he had visited; nice large dance floor, though empty right now, a bar off to the right, and he was sure if he came back at a later time, there would be a spell cast to illuminate the space in mood lightening and project the loudest of loud thudding dance music. Harry was nothing short of thwarted. This is what he had worked himself into a state for? "Damn it," Harry muttered to no one in particular, "I really thought this could be it."

Dejected he turned around to leave the empty night club. Maybe it was different when everyone was here? Putting his hands in the tight pockets of his pants, he made to leave, only to walk head first into what must have been a very large man. "Oy, watch where you are going." Rubbing his temple Harry made to move around the man he had run into. The man looked down at him. Harry noticed he was quite taller than he. That somewhat angered Harry. Must everyone be so large? Finally the man, dressed in a black suite with a silver tie, spoke, "Your appointment sir?"

Again Harry noticed that the man used a rather mocking tone when addressing him. 'Must be the guy from the door', he thought. Harry looked up to meet the man's face. He was very big, that was for sure, and hairy. He would remind Harry of Hagrid if his face wasn't so cold and stony. But unlike his good friend this man had slicked back black hair, tied back in a ponytail, and a perfectly manicured goatee. Harry resisted snorting of the idea of the gamekeeper with the same attributes. He must have been staring for too long, as the large man moved to head towards the back of the club.

"If you are going to stand there like a bumbling idiot, mouth open and everything, your appointment must not be that of consequence to you, if you name your appointees name I will happily cancel for you." The man turned back around to Harry, eyebrow raised in question. Taken aback and loss for words Harry quickly blurted out, "I forgot the name." The man simply closed his eyes and started walking towards a dark hallway in the far back left of the club. Harry stayed glued to his spot near the door. The man continued on walking only to stop a few steps from being lost of the shadows near the back, "Are you coming or not?" He spoke over his shoulder and waited. Quickly Harry regained his movement and followed behind the oversized man. He swallowed again, nerves overtaking him once more.

They continued down the dark hallway, lined with doors, but otherwise completely black. '_Whoever owned this place didn't think highly of a decorator_,' Harry though as they made their way along the path. Finally the man stopped at a door with a plaque reading simply, "Dragon". He put out a hand to stop Harry from following, "Stay here." He quickly looked Harry up and down again, smirking. "Must I assume you are in need of a Dom? Or will you surprise me little one?" This caused Harry to scoff a bit. He wanted to surprise the rude man and say he was wrong, but could only muster up the courage to shake his head and quietly sputter out, "yes, Dom please."

The man looked down at him, eyebrow raised. "Better get used to proper etiquettes than little one, that's Sir to you. You will address me as such in the presence of this establishment." He looked pointedly at Harry then, his eyes cold. Harry didn't believe this particular man deserved the title of Sir, but listened, not wanting to mess things up. "Yes Sir." It didn't feel right, but appeased the man anyway as he made to enter the door, he smirked once more at him, "Wait." Harry nervously did as he was told, not knowing what he should expect nor what was expected of him. Was he really going to do this?

He waited for what seemed to him forever, and decided the door must have been sound proof, for he heard no voices beyond. Finally the large man stepped out again. Harry lifted his gaze and met the man's eyes. He quickly lamented such actions, as the man looked murderous. "Manners sub, you do not look into my eyes, not into the eyes of your Dom for such appointment today." He turned to walk down the hallway again. Harry just swallowed yet again, and did what he believed was what was expected here at the "Dragon's Keep", he followed. What had he gotten himself into?

He didn't want this large man as a dominate sexual partner, nor any sort of release for that matter. This was Harry's first time doing any of this sorts and he feared the beefy Dom would be too much for him to handle. He should never have even thought this sort of place could help him. Yet he kept his eyes down and followed this stranger further into the club. As they walked they passed more and more doors, and even though some had simple signs reading 'occupied', no noise was heard. Yes, the rooms definitely were sound proof then. Harry suspected that was a good thing. He didn't know what he would be hearing otherwise. Eventually the Dom stopped at an unmarked door and unlocked it with a tap of his wand. He then turned back to Harry, who quickly averted his gaze. The man held out his hand. "Wand sub."

Harry shot his head up, "No way!" He forgot himself and stared the man down. There was no way in hell he was going to hand over his wand, his only source of power in the presence of a man five times his size. The man only stared and repeated again, "Wand sub, now." Harry made no move to retrieve his pocketed wand. They both stared at each other until the man made a somewhat startled movement. He gaped. "You're Harry Potter?" He seemed to have lost his dominant persona and strangely smiled down at Harry. Harry didn't know what to do, he had assumed the man had known that already and just didn't care. "Um . . .?" Was all the savior could muster before the large man quickly gathered up his composer.

"Excuse me, right. Well. . . Mr. Potter, it is company policy that the submissive client must turn over his wand before entering a play room. Surely you understand. . . Sub." Harry noticed he had completely regained his previous business like dominate nature. Lovely. But, a bit reluctantly, Harry reached into his pocket and handed over his wand. "Sorry," Harry managed to get out while he re ducked his eyes, "I'm sorta new to all of this." He scuffed his feet a bit, not knowing what to do. He heard the Dom chuckle, "One could only have guessed sub, now in you go." He held the door open for Harry, and slowly, Harry entered the room.

The room was actually a lot larger than Harry had guessed, most likely with the help of some spell or another, but easily large enough to house several pieces of furniture Harry had never seen before, all looking completely naughty, including a black swing of sorts. He swallowed hard. The room, like the rest of the building was completely black, with the exception of a view magically floating candles scattered around the room. '_How romantic._' Harry sarcastically thought to himself. He licked his lips and turned around to face the doorway where the man was standing. He didn't look up however.

"Good boy. Now, knowing you are new to this I will help of sorts. I'm sure you are aware of what type of club this is, correct?" The man came over to Harry and touched his shoulder. Despite having been rather frightened of the man at first, Harry found this gesture inviting. Harry nodded to answer the man's question, then remembering what he had chastised Harry for earlier replied with, "Yes Sir." He heard the Dom murmur his approval at Harry's response. "Good boy, now first thing is first, what would you like your safe word to be?" This time Harry didn't know how to respond. What was a safe word? Must have sensed his confusion the dominant man touched Harry's shoulder again, "It is a word to let me know when you have definitely have had too much. Saying simply No, or stop will not suffice." Harry heard the man chuckle slightly, "Hopefully you will be saying them quite a bit actually." Frightened now, Harry chanced a look up, and the man winked down at him. A calming expression on his face. Harry relaxed a little and thought.

"Any word will do?" Harry asked, bringing his eyes down again and flushing. He didn't know if this is what he wanted. But the man answered yes, as long as Harry was sure it wouldn't come up unless he truly needed it, and Harry responded with, "Will snitch work?" The large man nodded then led Harry to the center of the room, "Ready sub?" all the young hero could do was barely nod yes. "Excellent" was his response in turn. Harry licked his lips. _'Well here goes nothing. Or everything.'_

Harry kept his eyes trained to the floor as he heard the large man move about the room, surely gathering the things he needed to . . . torture?. . . Harry. Suddenly he felt something going over his eyes, a blind fold. "Let's begin with a simple flogging." He led Harry to what he assumed was a bench of sorts and bent him over, removing his clothes with a flick of his wand. Harry breathed in and out slowly from his nose. The first hit came without warning, and Harry cried out in surprise more than pain. More and more hits came and the more and more Harry took, the less and less sure he was that this is what he wanted. Sure, he liked the pain, Harry was known around the clubs of liking it a bit rough, but it was doing no more than giving him a bit of pleasure. Harry needed a release of sorts, more than anything sexual could give him.

"Oh you like pain, don't you slut. Are we a little pain slut? Is the great and powerful boy hero nothing more than a whore begging for more pain?" The Dom continued to slap Harry's bare arse with the simple flogger while he taunted Harry with his words. Indeed Harry was extremely turned on, with the excitement of trying something new and the pain of the raw burn on his backside, but he was a bit turned off with the degrading words. They came off as cheesy to Harry, like he was in a poorly made muggle porno. This thought made Harry chuckle slightly. Bad idea. "You think this is funny slut?" The next hit came down harder, too hard for Harry and he bit back cry of pain. Another, and one more. "Apologize for your poor manners sub." Another hard hit. Harry could tell blood had finally been drawn. This was not helping. His erection died down. Now frustrated the man slapped him once more with the flogger and moved to grab a hold of Harry's face. "Apologize. NOW!" The Dom than spat in Harry's face. Harry was mad, and scared. But before the apparently annoyed dominant could spit again, Harry angrily called out, "Snitch." Everything stopped. God, he must have appeared such a fucking pansy.

"Shit." He heard, the larger man say, right before Harry heard the door open. Still blindfolded however, he couldn't see the new man who entered the room. A new voice joined that of Harry's dominant handler. "Alfred, did we have a problem here?" The new voice was softer than of the man Harry now assumed was Alfred, the Dom. Yet softer, the voice held a firm commanding tone, much stronger than that of Alfred. "No of course not, Dragon Sir. The new sub here just doesn't know his limits yet." Alfred sounded a bit pissed, yet respectable at the same time. '_This man must be the boss'_, Harry thought, still bent over the bench and blind. Harry heard both men move around, then felt a cold hand on his burning bum. "A bit harsh for someone so fresh, no?" the new man moved around Harry touched the cold hand then to his cheek. "And look Alfred, you've scared the poor thing." He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Did you even ask him what he wanted, needed?" The cool man's questions was met with nothing but silence. "That's what I thought."

"You must excuse big Al over here," The man's hand had yet to leave Harry's cheek, it felt nice, "He's still new as far as Doms are concerned. That's my fault, I assigned him to you. My apologize Prey." His cool breath breathed over Harry's hot skin and he shuttered without control. With the man so close Harry though he recognized the voice. He couldn't place who's though, just that the voice contained much desired power and presence. The man was pure confidence.

"Alfred, when regarding a new sub, especially one so apparently delicate," Harry scoffed at the word 'delicate', he was Harry Potter for fucks sake. "One must read into what his prey wants," The cool hand ghosted across Harry's still burning back only to quickly but sharply slap Harry on the bum. "What the prey _Needs_." After one more quick slap Harry was once again fully erect. '_How could that even be?'_ he fervently thought to himself. Yet this man, this Dom, seemed to know, understand, what Harry needed. Even though Harry himself did not. "Oh see Alfred," another spank to Harry's rear end, "He likes this. Don't you my prey?" Harry quickly nodded and mumbled out, "Yes Sir." He heard a soft laugh beside him before another blow to his arse.

"That's yes Dragon to you Prey. I deserve a higher title than that of poor Al over there." Another slap and Harry's cock was weeping already for release. Harry cried out in pleasure this time, as yet another sharp spank to his bum set him off the edge. He shuttered as he came. Hard. All Harry could do was lay limp across the bench, tired, burning, satisfied. "Pity, I will have to teach you manners, I do say I did not give my prey permission to cum." The smooth voice reprimanded, yet petted Harry on the head. Harry decided it felt nice.

"Dragon sir, I am sorry. I. . ." Alfred began speaking from the corner of the room, he sounded defeated. The other man laughed quietly near Harry's ear. "He's a real softy once you get to know him Prey, he's still earning his 'wings' if you will." He ruffled Harry's hair. Then directed his attention back to the huge man in the corner. "Enough with your apologies. You are learning, I sent you off to a new sub. This is my fault. Speaking of which get him cleaned up and on his way. I have another appointment soon. Mustn't be tardy this Dragon." The commanding man stood up and moved away from Harry. Harry, in his venerable state, ass out and fully sated, missed the close contact with the Dragon. He wished someone would remove this bloody blindfold so he could see the man that finally seemed to touch on what he really needed.

"Oh and Alfred, for future reference, this boy needed a man in charge. Not a bellowing giant scaring him with floggers." Harry silently agreed along with the boss of the club. Alfred, the first Dom, had been too much, too scary. Harry decided he enjoyed the calmness, control, of the Dragon.

"Yes Dragon Sir, of course. My apology to the new sub" Harry heard heavy footsteps approach him and he immediately tensed up. "I will clean him up now." Harry tightened even more at the thought of the large man touching him again.

"No no, Alfred. I will. He's much too sensitive right now to have your giant hands fumbling around him." Though he was serious and stern, Harry heard a hint of a familiar tease in his tone. He felt rather than saw, the boss man smirk. Strange. "You may leave now, and prepare the next room for my next appointment. He should be here any minute now." Harry heard Alfred leave the room and immediately relaxed. Cool hands were on him immediately, first cleaning his slightly bloody back. "I do again apologize for my friend Al there, he's still learning. It was foolish of me to trust him with fresh meat like yourself." The man laughed. "Speaking of such, I do hope you shall decide to return to my humble keep again." He finished cleansing Harry's back with a simple wave of his wand to sanitize it and moved to remove the blind fold from the subs eyes. "You seem lost, and I do believe I could help you," The Dragon pulled up the blind fold, "Mr. . . "

Both Harry's and the man's eyes doubled in size as both recognized the other's face at once. All both men could get out was a synchronized "Shit." Before Harry closed his eyes in utter shame for letting none other than Draco Malfoy spank him to climax. '_Of bloody course.'_


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all that have read so far! I do hope whoever is reading is enjoying it so far. Please let me know in reviews! Enjoy!

WARNING: BDSM

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All both men could do for the longest time, was simply stare dumbfounded at one another once Harry's blind fold had been removed_. 'I cannot believe I just let bloody fucking Malfoy spank me._' Harry was in a near panic. He hadn't seen his school rival since the very end of the war, when he had boldly defended the ferret's family in their trial regarding involvement with the Dark side. Back then however, Malfoy didn't look at all like the confident young man that had been . . . um . . . pleasing Harry just minutes ago. Nor definitely not the gapping shocked muscular man in front of him now either. Yes, it would seem it was not only Harry who had changed after so many year. Last time Harry had seen Malfoy, the taller man had been just as slim and young as Harry himself still looked. Now the man projected himself completely different. Large, yet still lean, muscles now replaced his once lanky frame and short, perfectly styled, spiked hair now replaced his once slicked back style. He even had bloody dark tips at the ends now. It pained Harry's pride that all he could think was, '_Damn he looks good.'_

Both still in a state of utter shock, mouths still open and eyes still bulging, the door behind both men opened. "Dragon Sir, I believe your next appointment is here, shall I . . ." Alfred had returned and had trailed off at the end of his question to look uncertainly at the two men in the room. "Um, look Boss man, its Harry Potter!" Both Harry and Draco turned their heads to do nothing short to glare at the large man in the doorway. Alfred had a stupid grin on his face. All Harry could do was nervously return the smile, though a bit strained, to be polite_. 'This is way too awkward.'_

Harry was a bit startled then by Malfoy finally speaking. "Yes Alfred, I can see that now. Thank you." Harry turned back to nervously look at his once rival. Malfoy was staring daggers at the large man, who was still smiling happily at the door. "A little warning would have been kind." He then sat up from where he was still grouched down in front of Harry. Harry then took this as an invitation to also sit up from over the bench. He was hurt. He grumbled a bit, holding back more sounds of pain. His backside was still sore and burning, though not necessarily in a bad way, he decided. Once he was fully standing however, did Harry come to the realization that he was still completely naked. He unfortunately didn't see his clothes or glasses anywhere. He turned to face the other two in the room.

"Um guys?" Both larger men turned to face Harry. Harry noticed no longer did the Dragon have such a confident look. Honestly he looked like he was about to be sick. Harry himself felt the same way. They both simply stared at him. Was he supposed to still address them as Sir? Before he could open his mouth however, Malfoy got the hint. With a flick of his wand Harry's clothes, minus his glasses, reappeared on to his body. Harry sighed a bit in relief, though silently wished he could fully see.

"Alfred, go tell my next client that I will be there momentarily. I need to finish up here with Mr. Potter." Was it just Harry, or did Malfoy slightly sneer while saying his name? Nonetheless, Harry watched as Alfred mumbled a confused, "Yes Dragon." And turned to leave the room. Once again it was just Harry and Draco. Harry found himself again swallowing nervously. The larger man made no move to face him, but spoke anyway. Though Harry noticed he now lacked such a confident tone. "You will need to see our clinic about your back before you leave. Company policy, you understand. Also, do not forget to pay the receptionist on your way out. I do not offer a free service."

Harry felt himself nodding, but nothing more. Malfoy finally turned to face him. Harry, more out of embarrassment than respect, kept his eyes trained down. Malfoy began speaking again. "You've never been here before." It wasn't a question. "What made you decide to come here? To try out this particular . . . kink?" Harry thought the question was oddly personal. Why did it matter to Malfoy what he got off on? Really though, Harry himself didn't know the answer to such a query himself. So he simply shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes down. He heard Malfoy sigh.

"Really now, shrugging is such an unbecoming gesture. Why are you here Potter?" The command in his voice was back and Harry could feel himself respond positively to it. Damn. But really though, Harry had no idea how to answer the other man. So he again simply shrugged, but then muttered a soft. "I really have no idea." Silence followed Harry's answer, and nervously he again wondered if he should follow his answer with a Sir . . . or Dragon? He was too confused. All this was too much for him to take in. He still couldn't get over the fact that Draco Malfoy had spanked him and to completion even! Harry felt his face heat up in a blush. Malfoy made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a soft laugh. Harry blushed harder.

"I told you not to shrug. And it's entirely acceptable that you don't know why you are here. Maybe though," He moved closer to Harry, completely in command again, "You will find out." He pushed something into Harry's hand. The smaller boy looked down, they were his glasses. Harry finally looked up. Malfoy was dressed much like the other Dom from earlier, Alfred. He was decked in a full black suite, however Malfoys tie was blood red, not silver. Harry noticed his sleeves were also rolled up, and Harry could see the faint outline of the dark mark still on his left forearm as well as a thin black leather string wrapped multiple times and tied in a bow around his wrist. Harry looked away again, mortified he had been staring once more. He could not believe this was happening. Harry quickly shoved his glasses on to his face; happy he could see completely clear again. He looked over to Malfoy, just to make sure. '_Yup, definitely him.' _

Both men were again silent for a long time, neither looking at one another. All Harry wanted to do now was get the hell out of the "Dragon's Keep", fast. Deciding, he made a step towards the door. Unfortunately Malfoy then looked up, but still avoided Harry's eyes. "I hope my involvement in your first scene experience does not hinder your decision to return." He scuffed his feet slightly, a movement, Harry decided, that did not look natural for such a confident man. "I really do believe this could help you. With the way you responded," Malfoy trailed off and finally looked over to Harry. Their eyes met. "Potter it comes natural to you."

Embarrassed again, Harry broke eye contact. How did the ferret know what Harry did or did not need? He didn't know him, just like everyone else didn't know Harry. He was angry again. Why did people keep thinking they knew what he wanted, needed? He was sick of it. From every lie in the Daily Prophet, to the worries and advice from Hermione, and even Ron! And now Draco fucking Malfoy thought he knew what Harry needed too? Harry's jaw tightened. "You do not know me." He sharply met Malfoy's eyes. They looked completely calm. "Do not pretend that you do!" He was yelling now, so completely fed up with it all. Today had just been too much. He feared he might even stomp his foot, like a child in a tantrum. "Only I know what I want, and only I know what I sodding need!" Now he could even feel himself shake a bit. "So if you will excuse me, _Dragon_," Harry tried to put as much sarcasm and scorn in the word as he could, "I will be leaving." He made to step towards the door, only to have Malfoy stand in front of it, arms crossed, and a bloody smirk on his face.

"I never claimed to know you, Potter." Harry scoffed and looked at the door pointedly. Malfoy only continued, "However, I do know what general submissive people need, and I do believe that you too may need it as well," His smirk remained ever stronger, "Even if you are so entirely hard headed." He uncrossed his large arms and stepped closer to where Harry was standing. "Maybe I am wrong and this sort of release really isn't your thing. But if it is Potter . . . then maybe you can finally be happy." Harry watched confused as Malfoy's usual persistent smirk turned to a saddened smile.

"How do you know I'm not happy Malfoy? I could be the happiest damn person on this planet for all you know!" Again, here was this basic stranger believing he knew who Harry was. He just wanted to leave. This entire conversation was becoming far too awkward. It was becoming far too personal for Harry to even dream of continuing, especially with Malfoy of all people. "I am happy. How could I not be? I'm Harry fucking Potter, if you haven't noticed!" He felt his eyes begin to water, and roughly rubbed his face to stop the tears from falling. Harry would not cry in front of this man.

"Oh trust me Potter I am painfully aware of who you are, but do not lie to me. Potter, you aren't happy." Malfoy moved even closer still, making Harry lower his eyes ones more. "I can see it in your face, you are not happy. I know it may be a stretch, me asking of this from you, but please Potter," Harry felt cool hands lift his chin up, "Harry, please just trust me; this," Malfoy gestured around the room, "this is what you need." Looking in those cool grey eyes, Harry had never felt so vulnerable. He paid no mind to Malfoy using his first name. Not even compared to before, when he was bent over naked in front of a complete stranger, had he felt so little. He swallowed. Malfoy looked dead into Harry's eyes. Green to Gray. "I can see it in your eyes." He smiled his sad smile again. Harry wished he would stop that.

"Now, if you do heed my advice and return, I will make sure you will be assigned an appropriate Dom to handle you. I will make sure you never have to involve yourself with me again." Malfoy motioned towards the door. "The clinic and receptionist are down the end of the hall that way, and to your left." The smirk had returned, "And Potter, next time do come late enough to enjoy a dance or two with the many attendees of my club." Malfoy then turned from Harry and left the room. Harry was left standing alone in shock and strangely turned on_. 'Did that really happen? Damn.'_

Later that night, after having visited the clinic for a healing charm for his back and having paid the receptionist at the front of the business (Harry had discovered there was a back entrance of sorts, made for simply clients only,) found Harry resting in bed, completely astonished at the day he had had. He had finally had the balls to go visit the ever enigmatic club he tried his hardest to avoid, and what did it get him? A chance meeting with his old school rival, who not only had spanked Harry, but had apparently spanked him so nicely, Harry had climaxed. He was in utter shock. He closed his eyes and tried to think back to what had exactly been the turn on for him. He knew he liked sex a bit rough, but to actually enjoy someone spanking him? Like a naughty child? It wasn't even real sex! Yet a couple slaps to the arse and he was coming like a teenager again? What had Malfoy done that was so pleasing for him? Sure the Alfred guy had excited Harry, but there was just something with what the other man had done, that wasn't as nice as what Malfoy did to Harry. Maybe it was simply like Malfoy had said, the other guy was not yet fully trained? Harry mentally shook his head. No, that wasn't it. It was more. But he was damned if he was going to account it to Malfoy.

Tired of pondering the confusing subject anymore, Harry slumped out of bed to make a quick dinner. He grabbed his wand and murmured a tempus charm. Nine already, Harry had been prone in bed much too long. Still slightly stiff from his previous endeavors, he decided comfort food was in order, and quickly set the stove to make some pasta. While the pasta was charmed to self-cook, Harry looked around his small apartment. Maybe he should clean the place up, it really was dreadful. Why had he waited this long? All it would take was a simple flick of his wand, and like that the place would be slightly enjoyable again. Had he really been this lazy? Deciding he had been much too indolent lately, Harry made to clean, but instead of using his wand, Harry physically decided to pick up his space. Once done, he felt much more dignified in his work. Maybe next time he should also hand make the food?

After have enjoyed a, lonely, but delicious dinner; it was nearly eleven. Harry yawned at his place at the one chair table. Was he really this tired already? Usually on a normal evening such as this, Harry would be out clubbing until the early hours of the morning, if he even returned home to sleep. Normally he'd be enjoying the night life and the many pleasures one can find within it, including the men. But after the day he had had, Harry just didn't have the energy to explore his usual prowl. Or was it he didn't want to subject himself to something so belittling; empty. Honestly, all he could really think about was, not the many warm sweaty bodies he could be surrounded by right now, but the calmness of the "Dragon's Keep" and that one cool calming hand on his cheek. _'Bloody club.'_

Harry would not! Would not! Allow Draco Malfoy to be right about him. Harry didn't need Malfoy's deviant kink to find happiness! No he did not! He was happy! He could have anything or anybody he wanted. He was Harry Potter for Merlin's shake! Not that was any excuse but. . . Harry was happy. He was. But the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't justify that he truly was. It wasn't that he was so completely and utterly depressed, but he really could not rationalize himself being completely happy either. His life just seemed so empty now that he didn't have a war to fight or his friends living so close. Now that Harry's initial 'plan' was no longer in effect; he didn't really know what to do with his life. Reasons why his life seemed such a mess now.

Sighing Harry sat up from his table. He really didn't feel like going out; there was no appeal to it. Nor did he want to sit around doing nothing at his now clean apartment. He wished Rom and Hermione still lived close by. Despite their nagging about Harry's life, they were still his best mates. He thought about possibly fire calling them, but decided it really was too late for the married couple. Surely they had better things to do. Dejected, Harry decided to turn in for the night. The earliest in a long time.

However, once snuggled into his small bed; a simple mattress on the floor beside his window, Harry strangely felt good about himself. He had accomplished a lot today. He finally had made it to the impending club he had so hardly avoided, in fear of its results within Harry. And though he was satisfied it was not his cup of tea, and the looming fact he had been embarrassed with Malfoy's involvement; it was now out of the way. He could cross that off his list of possibilities of making him happy. Malfoy was wrong, Harry did not need that particular kink to placate himself. He had also cleaned his apartment and cooked a good dinner. He did well for himself today. Harry closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep. But a thought stopped him. But why did he feel up to cleaning his apartment? Or to cook dinner? The gratification to not feel like he had to go out on to the town and fuck the nearest male body?! Surely It had nothing to do with the appeasement he had felt in the presence of the "Dragon's Keep". And definitely not the pleasure he had received from the Dragon himself, right? Yet here Harry was, completely content and even feeling slightly proud of himself for not going out and clubbing, and feeling pride in completing such simple day to day choirs. "Bloody fuck," Harry cursed out loud to the empty room, "that bastard was right."

The following morning Harry woke up feeling better than he had in ages. Fully rested, his bum burning with an adequate pang, and up before past lunch time. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had woke up ready for a full day. Feeling good about what the day could hold for him, Harry easily got out of bed and made his way for a refreshing shower in his small loo. Once showered and dressed for his outings; tight white wash jeans and a black V-neck, paired of course with his favorite boots, Harry had decided something. He was going to give the "Dragon's Keep" one last try. He couldn't let his decision on the club be based purely on the owner. He would forget that Malfoy owned it, and would focus purely on the actual scene life itself. Maybe he would try another Dom, someone who wasn't a trainee like Alfred, and someone who certainly was not Draco Malfoy. Just because the prick was right about Harry maybe needing this sort of lifestyle to be happy, did not mean, by no means, that it had to be Malfoy on the dominating end of things. Happy with his attitude concerning the club, he decided he would go back that night; when the club was active and alive with other people. Other people that were not Draco sodding Malfoy.

Come that night, Harry strut with confidence back into Malfoy's club. He was going to find his place for damn sure. After setting foot however into the seemingly calm building, he suddenly was proven wrong; the club was anything but calm. Disappointed, Harry at first saw that the "Dragon's Keep" appeared no different while alive, than any other night club Harry had joined. The once dead dance floor was now packed with bodies, bodies of which were really dressed no differently than the clubs just down the street. Was Harry foolish to assume that the people that chose to attend this club would dress in obscene kicky clothing? Sure he saw a couple here and there that were dressed a bit outlandishly, but that could be found anywhere really. Why had he thought that this place would be any different? Lost on what to do, not quite comfortable to jump right into the thudding dancers, Harry circled the pathway that surrounded the dance floor and made his way towards the bar. All the stools being taken once he arrived, Harry opted to stand, and far away from the lesbian couple making out two stools away. Harry noticed one of them sported a bright red leather collar, while the other one held the leash connected to it. _'That was surely different.'_ Trying not to stare at the couple, Harry tried to get the attention of the bartender. "Excuse me Sir? One butter beer please."

The man tending turned around to face Harry, the later who immediately regretted it. "Harry!" Alfred shouted in joyful recognition; something of which Harry found strange given their previous encounter. "I see you decided to give the ol' keep another try, eh?" The giant man continued to smile down at where Harry stood. Harry just nodded his head and decided he'd rather watch the pair of witches beside him then converse with the man that had hurt him yesterday. The other must have sensed Harry's lack of mutual appreciation, for he softly touched Harry's hand on the top of the bar. "Hey, little one. I really am sorry about the other day. As the boss told ya, I really am still 'earning my wings' as Dragon likes to say." Alfred removed his hand from Harry's and nervously chuckled, "I'm not very good yet at this dominance thing yet. I bet if I had told the boss that the man looking for a scene was The Harry Potter, he never would have sent me to help."

Harry finally looked up to the giant man, he really did appear sorry. Harry also was noticing that he really did appear to be a softy, as Malfoy had told him. "Its ok Sir, you couldn't' of possibly have known what I was looking for." Harry attempted a smile at him, "Hell, I didn't, don't, even know what I am looking for." He watched as Alfred's face lit up again with a huge smile, hidden slightly by his goatee.

"Thanks Harry, I really appreciate that." He touched Harry's hand again, "And you are welcome to call me Alfred little one, or simply Al, if you prefer." Harry nodded his thanks, and turned to again look around the club. Still appeared like every other. "Here ya go Harry," Harry watched as Alfred tapped the butter beer mug with his wand, "I'm required to put a spell on it to prevent clubbers from entering the play rooms after drinking. A mandatory procedure from Dragon himself." He winked down at the smaller man. "He's a smart guy that Draco, he doesn't want any of his customers to make stupid decisions while drunk." He gestured towards the hallway that Harry and him had first walked down the other day, "You can enjoy yourself back there after the spell wares off." Little did he know Harry had no intentions of wandering down to the play rooms that night, he was there merely to observe. Though he did have to give one to Malfoy, it was clever not to allow drunken beatings down the hallway.

"So," Harry started after drinking a few sips from his flask, "how exactly does this club work?" Harry gestured around the busy space, "It really appears like any other club I've visited." He took a few more sips before Alfred answered, "Well little one it really is not much different. Dragon likes to keep all the kinky stuff round back." He gestured down the hallway again. "Customers can rent the rooms out for themselves and their partner, or hire one of the Boss's on staff employees. He offers both Dominant and submissive rent staff." Alfred finished explaining and quickly topped off a customer's butter beer. "That's what I am learning to be, a hired Dominant employee. As you found out, I'm not quite ready." He gave Harry a sheepish smile. Harry silently agreed. "Draco has someone training me, and in return I work bar some nights. He's a real good guy once you get to know him. And I am very grateful for this club." Alfred gestured towards the ceiling, "Before Draco came along with the keep, it was hard to find a place to endeavor my kink. Not a lot of places cater to such in the wizarding world," He laughed a bit, "Not many places anywhere really."

As Alfred continued his job tending bar, Harry decided he would indulge himself a little and join in with the thriving bodies on the dance floor. Once he let himself relax, did Harry really start to enjoy himself. It felt nice to be in the middle of the heat of the dance floor. Closing his eyes, Harry allowed himself to get lost in the beat of the music and dance along with the many people beside him. Once a particular heavy bass song decided to play, did someone come up behind Harry to join him. Happy to have a body to dance with, Harry kept his backside to his new partner and softly gyrated against the other man. He found himself relax, different from other clubs, simply by being around liked minded people. Enjoying himself, Harry came closer to the other body, now able to feel the other wizard's magic. It was strong, causing Harry to become a little more turned on then he already had been from dancing so long. It was only then that the other man spoke, but first a slight chuckle, "Are we enjoying ourselves, Prey?"

Harry closed his eyes, _'Of. Bloody. Course.'_ He whirled around to face the wizard, "What the hell Malfoy? I thought you said you'd leave me alone?" He really couldn't be too angry though, he had also danced along with him. But still. He stared daggers at the taller man anyway. Angered, at least that's what Harry was telling himself, at the signature smirk plastered on Malfoy's face. He watched as said man wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow. "My condolence Potter, but my dear friend Al let me know you were here," He teasingly ruffled Harry's hair. Of course angering Harry himself, who did not find the gesture flattering at all, not one bit, but blushed anyway, "I'm just pleased to see you gave the place another go." He continued to dance, despite Harry no longer joining him.

"Yes well I thought about it, and I guess your club did deserve one last chance. I must admit Malfoy, it is nice." Harry started his dancing again, but in no way near his previous partner. He allowed as much space between him and the boss as he possibly could in the packed space. The reset of the night continued as such, Harry dancing along with the rest of the gyratory club, and Malfoy safely far enough away, dancing near him. It was strange, but nice Harry decided. Hours later, and early into the morning, Harry was ready to head home and get to bed. He wanted to fire call his friends the next day. He hadn't talked to them in a while. Right before he left the club however, Malfoy touched his arm and muttered in his ear, "I'm glad to see you enjoyed yourself."

As Harry was lying in bed that night, he decided that surely enjoyment was a form of happiness.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to all that are reading! I really appreciate it! Please let me know how I am doing in reviews! I really would like to hear from some of you.

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The morning following his late endeavor to the "Dragon's Keep", left Harry feeling less than fantastic after waking up. True, the hero had only had one or maybe two butter beers, but dancing way into the wee hours of the morning would have done anyone in. Harry off handily thought he still felt much better than he usually did after a night out. Possibly because his bed was still empty? That thought aside however, Harry had enjoyed himself the previous night. Stretching his hands above his head, and swinging his sheets off his body, Harry blindly reached for his wand. It wasn't there. Panic flooded the young wizard. Quickly shoving his glasses on his face, Harry jumped out of bed to franticly search around his bed and bedside. Still no wand. Maybe it had dropped from his pocket while he striped for bed? However, after completely, and feverishly, searching the whole of his small apartment; no wand in sight. As a last attempt he muttered a wandless _accio_; nothing. Harry Potter had lost his wand.

Quickly getting himself presentable to exit his home, Harry had decided he would merely back track his steps from the previous day in hopes of locating his lost wand. He tried to think when he last had had his wand on him. He remembered clearly leaving his apartment with it, right after he had magically set his food to cook, and though he didn't use it to clean, Harry was positive he would not leave to go out without it. That really only left one place, and though Harry knew in his heart it had to be there, he really didn't like the idea of going back to the "Dragon's Keep" so early in the day. He painfully was aware as to what happened the first time. But Harry Potter most definitely could not go without his trusted wand; it must be found and as soon as possible. So, grudgingly, Harry once again made the short walk from his apartment building, to the street on Diagon Alley.

He could not believe he had been so careless to misplace his wand! Of all the years he had had his trusted holly, never had Harry lost it before. Not so carelessly at least. Beating himself up mentally for being so thoughtless, he finally arrived at the non-descript club entrance, but then remembering there was a better way in, Harry made his way around and to the back entrance; made only for clients. Opening the door, and with a tinkle of a bell, Harry stepped inside the 'business' side of Malfoy's kinky club. Not wanting to make a huge scene of it all, and most surely not wanting to have to see the owner, Harry quietly made his way to the receptionist desk. "Um excuse me?" Harry waited patiently for the witch writing something down on a piece of parchment to look up.

"Yes Mr. Potter?" Harry noted she was the same receptionist from the first time he was here. Petite with dark brown hair neatly pinned into a bun. She also wore a black suite, though with a skirt, with silver tie. _'They sure like black here.' _Harry felt stupid to ask his question, "Um yes, did anyone here find a um," He swallowed, something he tended to do a lot, it seemed, in the presence of this establishment, "lost wand?" How careless must this witch make him out to be? The great wizarding savior misplacing his wand at a dance club? Brilliant he was.

The young witch wrote something down on her parchment, and spoke without looking up again. "I am sorry Mr. Potter, but no wand was reported found last night. I can ask Sir. Malfoy if he has found such of course." She reached for her wand, surely to call in the Boss. Harry quickly jutted forward slightly to stop her,

"No, no that's alright, I must be at home surely," Harry tried to smile reassuringly at the skeptical receptionist. It must have worked for she went back to her writing. Harry sighed in relief. He really did not want to have to see Malfoy again. But he still had the problem of his wand. Maybe he really had miss looked it at his own home. He would just leave this place and go look again. Positive it could have simply rolled under his bed at night, though he swore he looked there, Harry made to leave from the back door. That is until he heard a very distinguishable draw from right behind him.

"Looking for something Potter?" Harry could even detect the smirk without looking. He rolled his eyes and turned around to face Malfoy leaning with one leg up and bent in the archway leading towards the play rooms. He closed his eyes slowly and then reopened them, trying his damnedest not to lose his temper. He just wanted his wand back. Without moving any closer than he already was, Harry answered the over confident man.

"Why yes, I am Malfoy," He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I've seemed to have misplaced my wand somewhere here last night," He had a sinking feeling Malfoy knew where it was, "Have you seen it?" And of course, Malfoy then pulled out the familiar eleven inch holy from his suite's pocket.

"You mean this one?" He asked as he teasingly swung the wand back and forth in front of his face, his posture still overly relaxed in the archway. '_What an utter prat.' _Harry made to reach up and retrieve his wand, only to have the ferret pull it just out of reach, and removing himself from the arch, to wonder down the hallway. When Harry didn't immediately follow, he looked over his shoulder, wand still in hand, and with smirk in place asked, "Aren't you coming?" He then turned back around and continued his way down the hallway. Harry really had no choice but to, reluctantly, follow. Why he was not surprised?

Cursing under his breath at the man in front of his pace, Harry followed Malfoy deeper and deeper through the maze of hallways. They passed door after door, some of which had the modest 'occupied' sign on them. He really did not want to think about what was going beyond those doors. If for disgust or fear of lust, he was not sure. Finally Malfoy stopped in front of the door Alfred had first led him to; the one reading simply: 'Dragon'. This must have been Malfoy's office then. Tapping the door handle once with his own wand; the door opened. Malfoy held it for Harry, motioning for him to enter, "After you Potter." Not looking up, Harry unenthusiastically obeyed and entered the room.

As he had suspected, it was an office of sorts. Dark gray walls and dark wooden floor, the room had a homey feel to it. In the space a nice big dark wooden desk sat in the back middle, cluttered with different parchments here and there and other such stuff of that matter. Looking around Harry spotted a small, but comfy looking black leather sofa towards the left, and a spiral staircase leading up on the right. Harry wondered what the stairs led to, but didn't voice his question. He just wanted his wand back. Not knowing what to do however, Harry stood stupidly in the middle of the room. He heard the door close with a click behind him and Malfoy move around him to sit in the impressive black leather chair behind his desk. He motioned lazily for Harry to have a seat on the couch close to the desk. Seeing he really had no choice, Harry obliged. He did however look pointedly at the man behind the desk. Malfoy merely took out a piece of parchment and quill, charming it to begin writing. Harry suspected he would be here a while.

"Tell me about yourself Mr. Potter." Malfoy crossed his legs and rested his chin on his folded hands as he looked dead on into Harry's eyes. Having no patients what so ever for whatever nonsense Malfoy was trying to pull, Harry stood to his feet in anger. He saw right through the other man.

"I don't have time for this Malfoy, just give me my bloody wand you nicked from my back pocket yesterday!" He knew what had happened now, surely Malfoy had snatched it last night while they were dancing, a clever plot Harry was sure, to get him back to his sodding club. He was not here to open himself up to this man. Though Harry was, for the most part, beyond the childish feud with the other man that did not mean Harry wanted to expose his darkest secrets to him either.

"Calm down Potter," Harry noticed Malfoy had lost his business like tone with him, and again had switched over to the classic Malfoy draw, "I just simply asked you to tell me some things about yourself, not to disclose your deepest darkest secrets." Harry took in a deep breath, seeing as how the blonde had seen right through him. That or he was reading Harry's mind. Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "Not that I won't figure them out anyway." He gestured back towards the sofa, "Have a seat please, Harry."

It unnerved Harry each time Malfoy used his first name. Strangely made him feel vulnerable, but deciding the only way he ever was going to retrieve his wand was to listen to the man, Harry did as he was told and sat down. It didn't however stop him from eyeing daggers at the cool collected man behind the desk. Malfoy simply gazed back, moving his eyes up and down. Harry suspected he was taking him all in, eyeing up all that Harry projected. Taking the opportunity; Harry did the same.

Draco Malfoy really had appeared to have changed quite a bit. Besides no longer having a tall gangly figure as he did in his Hogwarts days, now replaced with a trimly fit body and lean muscles, he also appeared to have beefed up. He looked as if he could easily lift Harry's skinny frame. He sneered slightly at that. Also, Malfoy's once slicked back platinum blonde hair was now tasteful styled up, with barely there black tips. Harry secretly thought that was a nice touch and continued on his inspection. Malfoy was once again dressed in what must have been the customary uniform of the business; black suite paired with the Dragon's red tie. But Harry also noticed Malfoy had his left eyebrow pierced with the tiniest of studs and that he also, like Harry, had a hoop in one ear. Deciding he had stared much too long, Harry broke eye contact first, causing the other man to smile slightly.

"So I will ask again Mr. Potter; Please tell me about yourself." When Harry didn't make to answer, Malfoy continued, "Anything will do, please." Harry crossed his arms in protest.

"I just want my wand Malfoy." Harry watched, becoming dejected, as Malfoy simply raised a brow. Sighing and deciding he really did have no choice in the matter, he began, sarcastically, to tell Draco Malfoy about himself.

"I'm Harry bloody Potter, my parents were killed when I was a baby by fucking Voldemort, and my entire childhood was spent trying to destroy one of the wizarding world's most powerful wizards." Malfoy just nodded for him to continue, while the quill he had spelled scratched the parchment. Taking a deep breath Harry continued, "Basically everyone I love was killed in the war, except my two closes friends who now live miles upon miles away from me." More nodding and more scratching. Harry was simply frustrated. He searched for more to tell Malfoy, "Um I don't know," Harry shrugged, "I spent the last couple years of my life partying around and fucking complete strangers. My entire life plan was shite once I discovered I was gay."

Malfoy stopped him this time, "Don't shrug Pray, It's unbecoming. Continue." Harry rolled his eyes in return and found himself yelling slightly now, "Don't call me that, I'm not getting into your mind games Malfoy! I'm not some helpless prey for your weird dragon pun you have going on here at this nut house." He heaved his chest, trying to calm himself down, anticipating the worse. Yet all Malfoy did was mutter, "I see," while the quill continued on taking notes. When Harry once again made no more effort to go on, the man behind the desk nodded his head once, "Go on Harry." This use of his first name again finally broke something within Harry. He was so angry, so confused, and lost at everything that had been going on.

"Fine! Fine, you want to know about bloody fucking Harry Potter? Cause I'll tell you," Harry had stood up from his seat on the sofa and was truly yelling now, practically screaming, "My entire life I've had one mission: destroy Voldemort. And it's been my responsibility since I was sodding eleven years old. Only a boy!" He felt himself start to shake, "And even before that my life was practically hell! I lived with my only living family, a bunch of muggles, who did nothing short of abuse me." Malfoy had ducked his head as Harry continued on his rampage. "Never mind that the happiest time of my life was while at school, even though the entirety of it was spent surviving near death experiences and tracking down a mad man!" Harry struggled to keep tears from coming. "I believed everything would be alright once the war was over. Id marry the girl I had been dating, we would have children, I would get a normal job, and finally I would have the normal life I had always wanted," Harry closed his eyes, "But of course then I had to discover I was a fucking poofer and then that plan went to shite, just like everything else." He could still hear the quill writing down information. "My friends moved away, I have no family left. I feel empty most of the time and," Now Harry was fully crying, tears running down hot on his cheeks. He was too far gone to let himself be embarrassed by it though, "two years ago this happened," Harry lifted up the left sleeve of his brown jumper, revealing one white long scar running horizontal across the top of his wrist. This time it was Malfoy who swallowed. No longer screaming, Harry continued, "I was drunk, had just come back from some strangers house," he shrugged, "I guess I just couldn't take the pain any more of going through the motions, but not really living. I don't even remember doing it, just waking up and quickly have to heal it," he sniffed, still crying, "before it was too late." Breathing heavily, and still shaking, still crying, Harry looked to gauge Malfoy's reaction. He had, during some point, looked back up to Harry. He didn't have a smirk this time, but said anyway; "Don't shrug Harry, its," Harry finished for him this time, "Unbecoming, I know I know."

Both men were dead silent for the longest time, neither looking up. The only sound in the room was the charmed quill still scratching away. Harry wished it would stop. He was afraid of what it had written down. He was afraid of what he had told Malfoy. Finally, not being able to take the silence any more, Harry, still crying and still angry, reached for his wand, which Malfoy had lain on the desk sometime during his tirade. Grabbing it firmly in his hand, he made quick movement towards to closed door, ready to get the hell out of the "Dragon's Keep" forever. But the door clicked lock before he could even reach it. Losing it, Harry crumpled in front of the locked door, curling in on himself, and sobbing uncontrollably.

After setting down his wand he had used to lock the door, Malfoy got up from his large desk to come over to where the small man was weeping. As it was, he himself found he had shed a few tears. Slowly he bent down to where Harry was curled in on himself and wrapped the smaller wizard in his arms, rocking him calmingly, "Shh, Harry. It's ok. It's ok." He carefully folded up his own left sleeve, revealing it to Harry.

Harry struggled a bit in the other man's hold, trying to break free of his arms. But then caught a glimpse of the other's exposed forearm. He saw once again the faded dark mark and strange thin leather wrapped string the man seemed to wear. However, Malfoy then reached to remove the tied string, enlightening a very similar, thin white scar across his wrist; just like Harry's. Shocked, Harry simply stared blankly at it. He had forgotten to continue on his struggling to escape Malfoy's arms. Still holding Harry in his hold, Malfoy began to speak again, "It happened during sixth year, after," He forced stopped himself from going on, not really wanting to bring up old demons, but the look Harry gave him made him continued, "After I was asked to join The Dark Lord and become a death eater. I never wanted to, but like you, I really had no choice in the matter of my childhood." He looked down at where Harry was still shaking in his arms, "It was that day you walked in on me in the bathroom."

Harry felt his insides go cold, he had no idea. No idea at all. He remembered Malfoy's face back then, angry, scared and crying. Just like he was right now. He lightly traced one finger down the length of his embracer's scar. Malfoy shivered a bit. Harry thought back to the day in the bathroom many years ago. He remembered seeing his rivals face, spells and curses flying, and then," Harry started sobbing harder. He remembered uttering that curse, a curse he had no idea what it did. All the blood. Feeling afraid of the answer, but doing so anyway, Harry slowly peeled back the color of Malfoy's black dress shirt. Just that little peek was all he needed to know that on that day, he too had scared Malfoy. He had nearly killed a man who had just tried to kill himself that day. "Malfoy, I really had no idea,"

Shaking his head Draco stopped him, "I know you didn't, how could you have,"

"No!" Harry turned around so he was facing Malfoy as appose to having his back to him; still in his arms however. "I mean I had no idea what that spell would do when I cast it." He started to shrug, but then thought better of it. Malfoy held back a smile. "I had read it somewhere, I wasn't thinking, I was angry, so much was going on," Curse these tears. Why couldn't Harry stop? "I know it isn't any excuse but,"

"It's ok, really. Just lucky Professor Snape was there; that he knew how to fix me. All of me." Malfoy pulled both of them up and moved them from the floor to the couch, "I owe," He looked down at the leather on his wrist, "A lot to Snape. More than my life really." He looked down at the boy still in his arms, "And I believe I can help you the same way." Immediately Harry started shaking his head no. Malfoy however touched his hand with his cool one and Harry instantaneously stopped. "Just trust me Potter, I can help you." He in turn, like Harry, ran his cool hands down the length of Harry's scars; both his wrist, and then his forehead. Harry was fighting within himself. He wanted to hold strong, wanted to say no; that he did not need Draco Malfoy's help. But another, stronger, part of himself was yelling at him to go for it. Malfoy was offering up happiness. He would be foolish not to take it, right? He pulled himself out of the other's grip, placing himself on the couch and leveling his eyes to Malfoy's. "Can I trust you?" He really had no more control on what was happening, might as well throw the rest of it to Malfoy.

Draco firmly nodded, "Harry I owe you my life." He thought back to the fiendfyre, back to the war, to the trial, "I promise I can save yours." Both men were completely vulnerable right then. Harry felt like he was an open book, like Malfoy could read every word within him. Could read even the words Harry himself could not. Reading a language Harry did not yet understand. Then without thinking, without knowing exactly what he was agreeing to, or what it would entail, he nodded his head.

"I will trust you. Please help me find happiness," He closed his eyes, tears once again falling from behind his glasses, "Draco."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you everyone who had reviewed, favorited, and followed. It means so much to know people are taking their time to appreciate another's writings. Please let me know what you think, good or bad, in reviews. I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Taters.

WARNING: BDSM themes.

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After the incident in Malfoy's office, the owner had basically patted Harry on the head and told him they would talk again the next day. Still worked up and upset over the whole matter entirely, Harry took this as a sort of snuff. He broke completely down in front of this man; spilling out everything in angry tears while the other held him, only to get shoved out immediately after? Indeed, Draco had simply offered a comforting smile at the door of his commercial and told Harry to meet him back at his office the next day round noon; so that they could discourse what was. Dazed, confused, and, admittedly; terrified, he had merely agreed with a nod of his head. What he was actually agreeing to, however, was another thing entirely.

Honestly, he had no idea what Malfoy had in mind of 'fixing' whatever was wrong with Harry, but now knowing the other man's trade of business, he had an idea. How that sort of kinky deviant was going to help him however, Harry had no idea. Nevertheless, he had said he would trust Malfoy, and now it was all up to him. The notion that Harry really had no choice but to not worry about what would happen next, eased his nerves strangely. That was now Mal-Draco's responsibility. He figured now more than ever would be an appropriate time to start calling the other bloke by his given name. To Harry, even saying 'Draco' in his own head sounded abnormal, yet not entirely wrong. On that note and leaving that particular area of Diagon Alley where said person's club was found, all Harry could thing about while walking back to his modest home was; _'What a strange ass day._'

That night, even after having an emotional meltdown, spilling his fears and confessing his darkest moments, and coming to a sort of truce with his school rival; Harry slept better than he had in ages.

Back in the "Dragon's Keep" however, up the stairs in the Dragon's office and staring blankly up at the ceiling of his flat above the club; Draco Malfoy could not find himself to fall asleep. He was much too consumed with mulling over the strangeness that had transpired the last few days with none other but Harry Potter, the boy savior, himself. Though he was not really a 'boy' any longer, but a man. Draco would have been lying had he said that Potter had not grown into his once undignified looks. True; the dark haired wizard still had unruly messy hair, even when he tried to style it, and still upheld the body of a boy, but no longer did Draco find these attributes unattractive on the, now man, Harry Potter. Draco could appreciate attractiveness despite whom the actual person was. He was not above admiring beauty.

He remembered back to the other day when he had found himself enjoying the first spanking of a virgin ass; how pleased he had been, at both himself and his Prey, when the small man had climaxed from Draco's touch. Never in a long time had he been so immediately fascinated by a nameless sub. Yet, now he did have a name to the spark wire of a sub he had found himself thrilled with, with but a simple six quick slaps to the man's arse; Harry Potter. Draco had then been extremely conflicted, by both his Dominant side and the once young rival side of the very man he now found himself very much curious. When he had discovered that Potter had visited his unusual club, he had at first found himself confused. Why did Potter believe this is where he belonged? Most likely just another poor man lost in thinking he would try such kink, and then forget about it the next day; sore and ashamed. Draco did not even know that Potter was gay. However, after have watched the seemingly confident twit come back to his club, and listened beyond the words Harry had been speaking; he had begun to change his mind. That's when Draco had nicked Potter's wand. He knew there would be no talking to him otherwise, but to get the other to talk to him first. Draco was a Slytherin after all; old habits die hard, and tricking the man had been all too easy.

Despite storming into the business side of his club the next day, frantic to find his stolen wand, Draco had instantly seen what he had been looking for in Potter; fear. True, any wizard would be fearful they had lost their wand, but Harry had shown something different; practically desperation, though masked, behind his glasses. And Draco was not too sure it was simply there for fear he would not find his holly wand. He was afraid of the club, afraid of Draco, and afraid that this is what he needed. All that and more was proven absolute and without a doubt in his mind correct after the man's confessions. Draco knew that this, his business, was what Harry Potter needed to be complete. He believed Potter no longer could handle the burden of responsibility. The poor git had had it his entire life; more reasonability than ever expected of the average man. It was just a matter of finding out what exactly he needed to deliver to be successful. Though he could read Harry fairly well, the man was practically an open book when it came to certain things, this part of the savior was masked.

Now he was thinking, and thinking hard. He knew he could supply Harry with what he needed; Draco did it for a living to several different men nearly every day. That's what he was: a Dominant, and a damn good one. However, nor was Potter any other man that had rolled into his keep looking for a quick release; he was Harry fucking Potter: the boy that had survived twice! Not only was it a problem to get through to him, to break him, but also a matter of speculation and liability. Harry was damn known in the wizarding world; if word that he was not only visiting a BDSM, but one owned by Draco Malfoy himself; things could go horribly wrong. If such story reached the press, not only could Draco's club be under fire, but also Draco himself again. This was a selfish notion, one he wished he could overcome, but he had been under enough hearsay before and especially after the war. He had already healed once, he was not sure he could do it again. His life was fairly private now, very few knew of his club, let alone of Draco's kink. If he decided to help Potter . . . if word got out, he was almost certain everyone would know; despite who he chose to dominate the man.

Draco then closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into his bed's black silk sheets, trying to enjoy the smooth cooling fabric on his bare skin. He would not allow Harry Potter to destroy his balanced secluded life. He would not. Everything had finally settled into place for him; he owned and ran a successful business, he was away from his family and the press's condemning eyes, and he was confident in his Dominant abilities. Yet, all Draco could see behind his closed lids were the helpless lost empty eyes of a man he once thought the bravest. It was true; Harry Potter was so lost and unhappy; and Draco knew he had the ability to heel him. He sighed and stroked the worn leather around his wrist, just below his shaming dark mark. He had a responsibility as a self-proclaimed dominate man to help any submissive lost soul; he had promised his mentor. He had been taken pity on, now it was his turn to help another. Not only though had he promised his advisor however, but he had promised Harry himself, the man that had saved his life, that he could and would help him find happiness. Malfoy's were proud, and he now considered this a matter of pride. He would not disappoint the memory of the only one that ever truly cared for Draco, nor the man he owed his life to. He owed this to both men.

Still caressing the worn string on his wrist, Draco finally fell asleep.

The next day found both men sitting in the Dragon's office. Draco sitting poised and guarded behind his desk taking notes and confident smirk in place, and Harry scowling on one arm of the couch staring daggers at the other. Draco noticed he seemed to have completely forgotten the previous day's break down, that or was purposely ignoring it. That just would not do.

"Harry, please explain to me again why you feel you need my help?" This was the third time now he had asked this question. Draco wanted Harry to again admit he needed help from his service. Admitting one needed help was always the first step. Ignoring the problem would not do at all. However, Harry just shrugged; again for the third time. Frustrated, and not wanting to tell the man again how unbecoming such actions were, Draco stood and stepped calmly over to the moody boy, and stared him down over his nose. Harry, surprisingly, did not look away from the bigger man, simply stared back; defiantly. That's when Draco slapped him, not too hard, across the left cheek. More from surprise than force, Harry's head flew sideways and he admitted a staggered gasp. He was now looking quite interested at Draco's shiny black leather shoes.

"Now, I will ask you one more time Potter; why do you need my help?" His voice was stern, yet not harsh. Harry on the other hand answered, finally, in a soft quivering tone; "Because I am lost and you promised you would help me." Draco noticed a small tear fall from the other's eye. However, he was pleased with the man's answer. He petted Harry's head, "Good Prey." He smoothed his hand against the other's cheek and returned to behind his desk. He jotted something down on a piece of parchment. As almost an afterthought he asked; "And why did you deserve to be hit?" Draco didn't even bother this time to look over at Harry. He waited, still keeping busy with his notes. He heard the man swallow, another habit he would have to break him of, and answer, "Because I would not answer your question." Draco finally looked over to watch Harry pick at imaginary lint on his black hoodie, and then look up; as if to ask if he was right. Draco nodded his head to continue. Obviously confused, Harry looked away in thought before perking up and answering, "Because shrugging is an unbecoming behavior?"

Trying to hide his smile of appeasement Draco raised an eyebrow instead, "Was that a question?" He sat down and folded his hands together. Harry shook his head, "No Si-Dragon, shrugging is an unbecoming behavior." He looked up hopeful at the man behind the desk. Now completely please, Draco smiled, a real smile, and nodded his head at the hopeful man, "Good, yes Prey; very unbecoming indeed." He wrote another note on the parchment. Harry noticed he had not enchanted the quill to write on its own today. Good, Harry had found it distracting the other day.

Draco then again stood and came to sit on the oppose arm of the couch Harry had perched himself on. He then for the first time broke eye contact first with the other boy. Harry even heard him sigh, dropping his confident persona for a split second asking, "Harry, are you absolutely sure you are willing to completely hand yourself over to my service?" Harry still found it strange to hear his first name from those lips, but never had he heard any lips say anything he had wanted more. Closing his eyes, all he could do was nod earnestly. He didn't know why, but he truly did want this. Nodding as well, Draco got up and scuffled through some paper's on his desk; reading distractedly to himself as he searched.

"Sir Marcus would be entirely too rough for you, though I wouldn't say you need someone as docile as Sir Benjamin." Confused Harry simply sat obediently. Malfoy continued on, "You need someone who can deliver equal amount of gentle sternness and power as well as know how to properly yield punishment." Draco pursed his lips as the other still continued to watch bewildered. "Someone unquestionably talented with his hands, you do appear to be a bit of a pain whore though. . ." He continued shuffling through the many files. But Harry had heard enough. For the first time that day he shot up from his seat on the couch a bit miffed and equally confused. He came over to Malfoy's desk and dropped his hand roughly on the stack of abandoned files.

"I thought you said you were going to help me?" He swallowed; hard.

Draco stopped his searching and looked down at the man staring up at him. He noticed honest confusion, as well as anger, on the other's face. What did Harry think he was doing? He was trying to help the man. At this very moment he was trying to decide which of his staff could best handle such a challenging submissive client. Did he not realize this? Forgiving, this time, Harry's misconduct and interruption; Draco simply raised an eyebrow as if saying, _'what do you think I am doing?' _

He again looked down at the lists of many potential Dominant men for Harry. Not having any of that though, Harry slapped the remaining papers from the others hands. He however, immediately, regretted his action. This slap across the face was sharper than the other. This time though, he did not look away after the punishing force stung his cheek. Not knowing why Potter had decided to behave this way all of a sudden, Draco took a step closer to the shorter man. But before he could act on anything else, Harry spoke again, "I thought," He took a deep breath and gestured towards the files, "I thought you said you were going to help me." He pointed at Draco now, "Thought you."

Now understanding the confusion here, the larger man was taken aback. Had he really believed it to be him to take on Harry as his submissive? Surely he had to see reason; how strange it would be to have Draco himself be the dominating partner to Potter's inner submissive behavior. It would be all too close, too personal, and ultimately all too sexual. Harry had to have understood this; that he and the savior were just simply not compatible. He then realized that said man was still staring up at Draco a look of pure determinations, and hopefulness. Why did Potter want him?

Placing his hand again on the cheek he had punished, Draco shook his head; admittedly a bit dejected. "I did say I would help you, and I am," He sprawled his hand at the scattered papers on the floor of his office, "These are all the potential dominant men I have on staff. One of them will be perfect for you, and they will help you. No charge." He was trying to make this as clear as he could for Harry. "Through my service, my help, you will find a compatible partner to see on a regular basis." Draco then nodded once and left the man still standing in front of the wreckage of papers to resituate himself in his chair behind his desk. "Now if you would kindly pick up the mess you have made."

Harry was at a loss. He bent down to start picking up the files. He had come back, back to Malfoy's club, under the impression that he was going to receive help, help from the 'Dragon' himself. He had simply assumed it was going to be Draco himself; he had said HE would help Harry. But that was just it though, he had assumed. He really could not find fault with the other's logic, he was helping Harry through his service by trying to provide him with what he felt suite. But then why did Harry think only the other man, the Dragon, Malfoy, Draco himself could be the only one that could help? Maybe it was his unfortunate first meeting with the untrained Dom Alfred, or how after it was Draco who had shown him that yes; this is what he needed, with but a few swats to the rear?

No longer did Harry believe this is what he wanted to go through. Not if there was so many questions and unknowns as to who or what was actually going to happen. After picking up the last file he stood back up and carefully placed them at the corner of Malfoy's desk, peeved. He quickly mumbled a soft, "sorry," and sat back down on the couch.

Both men were silent for a while; Draco staring questionably at Harry, as Harry had become very interested at this own hoodie strings and began chewing at his own lip. Finally Draco closed his eyes and sighed heavily before gaining Harry's attention with a slight cough. "You do understand why I cannot personally take you under my care, yes?" Harry almost shrugged before stopping himself and simply nodding. At least that was an improvement. "Harry, we have hated one another." He said this as simply as a comment on the weather. "And though I no longer can find it within me to hate you, our past is our past." Again a simple nod and no eye contact either. Heaving a sigh again, Draco continued, "I can find someone that will do a fine job with you. Someone else can heal you."

This time Harry did look up, but stared at a spot just slightly past Draco's right shoulder, "No thank you Dragon, I think I will politely pass on your offer," He got up again from where he had sat and turned to head for the door, "I no longer believe I need your business's services." He inclined his head to where Draco sat, "Good day," A sneer latched itself to Harry's face then, "_Sir_." And with that, left the office with his middle finger extended.

Draco just sat still, shocked and angered at the other's stubbornness. Did the other man see that he was truly trying to help? He could not, would not, allow Harry to let him break his own promise to him. He got up quickly and ran towards the lobby of his building. The shorter man was just leaving the door with a soft tingle of chimes, a determine stance to his steps. Rolling his eyes, Draco did all he could do and followed him through the door and into the back streets of Diagon Alley.

"Harry, please wait you git." The other made no move to acknowledge the blonde behind him; just kept walking forward. Harry had no intention what so ever of listening to the lying man behind him. He would just have to find another means of happiness; something that most definitely did not include the slimy ferret chasing after him. However, the other had longer legs and was catching up quick. He tried to speed up his determined pace. Behind him he heard the other swear before shouting once more for him to stop. The chase went on much like this for some time, neither man stopping from achieving their goal; Harry to get away, and Draco preventing him from doing just that. Both were simply too stubborn. Finally realizing this, Harry stopped dead in his tracks in front of a small tea and coffee shop, the other stopped as well, hoping Potter would finally give in. Instead however, the other asked him a surprising question, "Care for some tea Malfoy?"

Caught off guard, something Draco did not appreciate one bit, he surprised himself by shrugging his own shoulders and answering, "Why the bloody not." And inclined his head to the front door of the shop. He even held the door for the dark haired wizard as they made their way inside the quaint building. Once in line to order their beverages Harry chanced a side glance at the other as he nudged him lightly in the ribs and muttered slyly, "Don't shrug Draco, it's a very unbecoming behavior."

Feeling warmly pleased, all Draco could do was laugh. He had his work cut out for him he rightly decided. Oh was he fucked.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so much to everyone that has favorited, followed, and reviewed my story! It means so much to me everyone! Also, I will try to keep updating regularly, but classes finally started back and it will be very hard so please stay with me if my updates are slow.

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Draco found himself out of his element; nervous and loss for word and very much not liking it. At first, following the other man into the tea shop sounded like a good idea, no longer having to chase him down, but now he was not too sure. It felt oddly like a date to Draco; something of which he had not been on in a very long time and was unquestionably not in his comfort level. He took another sip of his still hot tea before Harry finally looked up from his own to speak,

"Can we talk?" His eyes seemed to search Draco's light grey ones; his emerald orbs searching for something. Of what he was searching for, the blonde had no idea. More than that however, now he was confused. What had been preventing Harry from speaking in the first place? Of course they could talk. The other man must have seen the confusion on his face as he clarified, "I meant, can we talk without . . ." He gestured limply between the two of them, "your weird dragon metaphor or whatever." Draco just raised an eyebrow, puckering his lips of sorts; possibly to hold in a snort. He inclined his blonde head to the dark haired boy.

"You mean of course without the pretense of me having any power of you;" He decided he needed to soften his tone at the other's scowl and sat up a bit straighter than he had been, "You want to talk to me as Draco and Harry, not as dragon and prey." It was not a question, he had understood exactly what Potter had wanted, but the other nodded anyway in conformation. So Draco simply waited. It took a while again, possibly the smaller man having to organize his thoughts, but finally Harry again spoke.

"I am so completely confused." Not what Draco had been expecting, but he would listen. Harry looked up at the ceiling, "Just a couple of days of ago, I had no idea I could even be interested in your," He seemed to be searching for an appropriate word, "business. Then you were telling me I needed it. That it would make me happy." Harry chuckled then and met the larger man's eyes, "I didn't believe you, you know. Thought you were full of complete shit." Draco watched as he then smiled, though sadly, and closed his eyes in a sign of recognition before opening them back up slowly, "But now I think there has never been something more true said." Harry then licked his lips and decided to take another sip of his tea. Draco just scratched his head a bit and nodded to himself. Of course he had been right.

"What made you change your mind then? About the kink?" He was genuinely interested about how the boy savior would make such an important life realization. He remembered how difficult it had been for himself to come to such understanding back in sixth year. He, like Harry, had also had help.

He watched as the other man skewed up his face in thought, "I'm not entirely positive really," he tilted his head to one side, a gesture Draco was sure in place of a shrug, "I just noticed that after that first night, I wasn't in such a funk." He continued, "However, I'm not really sure if it's the kink I am interested in as much as," For a split moment Draco believed in fear Harry would say he himself. That Harry Potter was actually interested in Draco Malfoy. Harry however surprised him again, "giving up control, not having another thing to be completely responsible for." If the brunette noticed the look of relieve, or was it disappointment, on the other's face, he didn't comment. Instead, Harry was squirming a bit in his seat.

So it was more the lifestyle Potter was interested in; not so much the deviant sex that could be involved. Draco had met other clients like this, but that was not his business's expertise. He owned a club catered to sexually pleasing witches and wizards in the desired kink of BDSM, not to sell the service of the lifestyle. He was then going to have to disappoint the man seated in front of him. Harry however continued on talking,

"At first I was trying my best to avoid you, you remember. I haven't seen you since the day of the trial I suppose," He was still fairly fidgety. Draco wished he'd stop; it was putting him on edge. "But you seem to know what I want, need. Not Alfred, or any other of those bloody names you listed." Harry started chewing his lip and almost mindlessly began stirring his tea with a practiced twirl of his finger. "I'm sorry I pitched a bitch fit in there, by the way."

Draco ignored his apology, but was please by it anyway. Instead he spoke; voice calm, "Indeed, I do know what you need Potter, just as I know what many different submissive people need when they come to me. It's my job." He felt as if they were now speaking in loops. He had explained this to the other multiple times now, he was sure. However, his service did not offer the exact level of intimacy that Potter desired. He was not a match service, derived to create relationships. His employees either simply dished out pain and power, or received it. Nothing more.

"Harry please listen to me," he had reached out and stopped the other man from magically stirring his tea, "I said I could help you, and I can. Maybe not me personally being the one to dominate you, but now that I have your file pretty much sorted out, know a little bit more about what you need," Harry was already shaking his head no. The taller man carried on anyway, "I swear that I can find the perfect match for your kinkier side." And though Draco was aware that any counterpart he found suite for the dark haired man would not be able to hand over the lifestyle Harry wanted, he knew he could find someone for his rougher sex driver. At least a part of the other's hardwired submissive tendencies would be placated.

At first Draco was not sure if Potter would answer, so he bit his cheek to refrain from screaming in frustration, and patiently waited. Finally the other looked back up, eyes calculating. "I told you I would trust you, if you really believe you can find someone to help me," he again tilted his head to the side, in supplant of an unbecoming gesture, "then I guess I have no choice to at least give someone else a shot." And though Harry did not appear pleased of have admitted this, at least him and Draco were, more so, on the same page now.

Satisfied with leaving the conversation, and the cozy tea shop, on that note; Draco stood up. After appearing a bit baffled, the other did as well. The blonde noticed however his shoulders were slack and a deep frown was plastered on his face. Why must this be so difficult? Potter was nothing short of another submissive man desiring his services! Nothing more and nothing less. Yet Draco had to keep reminding himself this. He did owe more to this man than any other.

Exchanging no more words, the pair left the quaint tea shop to return to their own dwellings. Both feelings oddly morose, despite finally coming to an agreement.

* * *

Harry could not sleep, though not for a lack of trying. He had now been laying corpse like on his mattress for a good three hours, staring at the ceiling, as he couldn't seem to keep his mind from wandering. He had a lot to think about. He had entered the "Dragons' Keep" lost in confidence that Malfoy would keep to his word and would begin to help him with whatever the man believed he needed. But the moment the Dragon brought about the files, Harry's hope fell through. He was just another client, and Malfoy was simply trying to match him up with any other employee.

True, the owner had promised it was free of charge, and Harry could not fault him for honestly trying to be helpful. However, the boy who lived still could not help but to feel disappointed. He was disillusioned that he had assumed that the other wizard was going to personally help him with his apparent submissive needs.

Harry turned slightly in bed to try and gain a more comfortable position. He would just have to forget about his confusing disappointment and try and get some sleep. Besides, he had a busy day the next day. He had agreed to allow Malfoy to continue on his plan of finding him a suitable match. He had a feeling he was in for a wake of letdown. He doubted anyone would do. Harry knew, he knew, that no one else would simply do. Only Malfoy would know how to help him, only he had the inkling of what it felt like to go through what Harry had gone through. Only Malfoy had experienced Harry's own pain of feelings so lost and confused that he had tried to take his own life, just like himself. Only Draco.

Harry scoffed at himself, angry that he had gone from being completely stubborn to not involve himself with the blonde; to knowing he could only be happy with said man's help. Life was truly unfair sometimes. It sure had dished out a fair share of shit for Harry so far. But now something had changed within him; he was now determined to find this happiness Malfoy kept promising. And to do so; Harry would just have to man up, and attempt finding another dominant partner.

Harry never did fall asleep.

* * *

Draco shot back another quick bout of fire whiskey; angry at himself. Why did he have to care so much about Potter's feelings? He had barely paid him any mind in the previous years, barely any since after the trial. Yet now? He was tipping back shots just to keep him mind from continuously wandering to the boy hero. Draco tapped the wood of the bar to gain Alfred's attention once more, "Hit me Al."

The large man turned with a combination of pity and frustration on his face. He roughly shook his hairy head and continued to wipe down the bar as he spelled several cups clean with his wand. "Nah Boss, you've had enough," He peeked his gaze up and half hardly gestured towards the open club, "Besides were closed, time to head home." Draco looked behind him and exhaled at the large empty room. Where had the time gone? Sighing once more he turned his attention back to his bartender and learning employee. Alfred caught his look and responded with a lift of one side of his mouth, "Draco, why punish yourself?" The large man leaned forward and crossed his arms whiles leaning forward on the bar. Draco decided to simply ignore him. He was most definitely not punishing himself, if anything the exact opposite.

Alfred would have none of that however, and moved to catch his Boss's eyes, "Why can't you just help him, hm? I know you want to, I can see it in your face." Draco looked up from his empty shot class, "Are we all of a sudden a master at facial expressions?" He shot daggers towards the larger man, "Last time I checked they were your weakness," He remembered the first day that Potter had entered the club, "One of the main reasons I'm in this particular predicament actually." If Alfred had known how to properly read people, had seen the look of pain and panic in Harry's eyes just days previously, then the man never would of felt the need to use his safe word, Draco never would had to intervene, and nor would he ever have felt the pull the smaller man omitted when they had paired together in scene. It boiled down to being all Al's fault. Except he had been the one to assign the trainee to the unscheduled sub. Great.

"I can see it Drac, It's obvious." Al came around the large wooden bar to occupy the stool nearest to Draco's right. He placed a meaty hand on the Dragon's shoulder, "Look, Harry's looking for a Dom, right? He came here for help, just like everyone else, and if he wants you to help him. . ." He trailed off, hoping his implication was clear. He didn't understand at all why his boss would not simply help the wizarding savior, he would if he could. But he unfortunately had failed miserably at his go.

"But that's just it Alfred," Draco suddenly felt angry, why could no one see his point! "He's not just like everyone else, he's Harry bloody Potter, the golden boy of our world!" He shifted his empty glass between his hands, "Back in school we despised each other; he hated me. We were rivals in every way." He shook the large hand off his shoulder and shifted to face his friend beside him, "Besides, he not even looking for a quick off and a few whips of a flogger," He had no idea why he felt like he needed to yell but he tried to calm down his rising voice, "He wants the lifestyle Al, and that's just something I don't have to offer." He made to then get up and retired to his apartment above the club, maybe all he needed was a good night's sleep to clear his head.

However Alfred grabbed his attention, "Why not?"

The question froze Draco. It was a simple enquiry, but a stupid one at that. Why not? Why not?! He quickly spun from his spot and directed daggers at the hairy man seated at the bar, "Because you bumbling fool! Have you not been listening, he is Harry bloody fucking Potter!"

Just as quickly then Alfred shot up from the bar and took a step towards where Draco fumed, "So?" He too was now becoming frustrated, "Would that not be more reason to help him? I mean he saved us all!" Alfred really could appear scary when he was pissed. He was much larger than Draco, something that was not lost on the owner. "Draco, he saved us all. He saved you. If you can help him, why would you not?" He had quieted his voice, hoping to appease to his boss. It did not work however, as the other then seemed to explode before him.

"You daft imbecile, I understand that. But as I have said, he does not like me, hates me even. Besides, I cannot be the one to help him. I cannot." Both men were face to face now, staring the other down. Never mind the height difference, Draco knew he could be damn intimidating. "I dominate and bring pleasure and pain to people, I do not, by any means, form relations with boy heroes."

"And why not, hm? Like I said, I know you want to." Alfred was unwavering; keeping his stance and confidence in stand up to the other more experienced Dom. He had known Draco awhile now, through his first comings of the club as well as his training. He knew him, better than the other seemed to think. Never, between all of the submissive people looking for a release, had Alfred seen such an instant connection between his friend and the one he was dominating. Not like he had between Draco and Harry. And nor had he seen his boss so taken with another. He had not been doing shots for the past hour for nothing. He knew the other's mind was consumed with the Potter boy. He just did not fully understand why, if Harry was asking for it, Draco would not personally help him. Though he knew his governing friend had never taken up a full time sub, he did not understand why. What was preventing the Dragon from being happy, like he helped others every day?

"I don't think he hates you Draco, he did come to you." Alfred seemed to be calming down now, trying his hardest to make the other see reason, "He asked for you personally. That to me does not sound like hate." And without another word he exited the "Dragon's Keep" to return home, leaving Draco with nothing but his conflicting thoughts.

* * *

When he finally managed to make his way upstairs to his dwellings above the club, Draco was swimming in more thoughts of Potter than he was before going down for a drink. He thought a bit of fire whiskey and a chat with his good friend would do him good. Instead it seemed to do the complete opposite. Alfred's sudden bout of confidence and dominance was surprising, and though not unwelcomed as his employer, Draco had not appreciated being talked down to. However, he understood where the man was coming from. The truth though, as hard as it had been to admit it to himself, Draco was frightened. He was afraid of failing, like he had done many times in the past. He was terrified to fail the man that he owed so much to. Also, he knew helping Potter would become a very personal thing. To care for another human like the kind of relationship a sub desires from a regular Dom was beyond what Draco had to offer, to Potter or anyone else.

Besides, neither man he was sure would dare to allow such a relationship to prosper. That would mean feelings, vulnerabilities, caring; much deeper than Draco desired in any such position. He was a dominant man, confident within himself and everything he did. He need not a partner to foolishly complete him; be damn it become Potter himself. Yes, he wanted to help the poor man; he knew where his pain was coming from, he had been there too, but he was not the man to fix Potter.

Draco slowly climbed into bed, once again enjoying the cool silkiness against his naked skin. It felt nice. Still sitting up he looked around his humble apartment; this was all he needed, his residence and his club. Nothing more. Besides, hidden in his own establishment was always many a sub to appease if his dominating side ever struck. He didn't need his own personal sub there to his beck and call when he had a whole hallway full and more on call. So he would stick to his original plan; find Potter a suitable partner for when he visited the club, keep to running his own business, and keep well away from Potter's personal life. He would simply be the boss of the club the boy attended. Nothing more, nothing less. Draco, finally finding some comfort with his buzzing mind, laid down to go to sleep. However, as he settled back down to his silk sheets, he didn't quite enjoy the large coolness of his bed as he had before.

In fact, it actually felt pretty lonely.


End file.
